Remembrance
by PetraA
Summary: John and Lazlo begin to learn one another's secrets.


John nervously took a sip of his wine as he felt Lazlo now look at him with all the analytical prowess he had previously turned to catching Japheth Drury. In truth he could not account for his own discomfiture, but upon encountering Biff Ellison he'd been seized by such need for a drink as he hadn't encountered since his brother's death. Thankfully he and Lazlo had been greeted by a waiter holding drinks almost immediately upon entering the opera house.

"John," Lazlo began, leaning in from his seat, "are you quite sure you are all right?"

"Oh yes" he said, trying to grin, "I'm just preparing myself for a soporific evening. Last time I fell asleep at an odd angle and woke up quite sore."

"I wouldn't have expected you to still be embarrassed by what transpired with Mr. Ellison" Lazlo stated, ignoring his previous response. "Being robbed of your billfold and trousers is hardly the most significant social misstep your drinking has led you too."

John experienced a hot flush of anger and shame at the continued insinuation that he'd simply had too much to drink at Paresis Hall. His frustration over being unable to defend himself, as he remembered little of what had transpired, nearly made him snap at the needling alienist. Instead, he picked up the opera glasses and began scanning the surrounding boxes in an effort to avoid eye contact. Seeing an opportunity to change the subject, "Say, it appears Mr. Morgan has acquired a new _niece_."

Lazlo sniffed at his observation. "I've further upset you by mentioning what happened at Paresis Hall. Why is that?"

"Perhaps you might first tell me exactly the nature of your quarrel with Sarah? I believe I asked you months ago and never received an adequate response." As soon as the words left his mouth John regretted them. He had no interest in dredging up an old feud, he simply did not want to discuss a night he could scarcely remember.

After a moment of unexpected silence, he finally turned to Lazlo, intent on apologizing. He was astonished to find Lazlo blushing slightly and looking pained but still watching him attentively.

"Ms. Howard never told you what happened or how we made amends?"

"No." John wanted to leave it at that, but ultimately years of concern over his friend overrode his good sense and he asked "Are _you_ alright? Do you wish to speak of what transpired?"

"Your unfailingly good nature continues to surprise me John. Especially as I'm beginning to think I did a greater disservice to you in not seeing to you after your night as Paresis Hall than I ever did to Sarah."

Before John could begin to piece together a response to such a statement, the lights in the theater began to dim, signaling the start of the show. John thought he could begin to relax and so was startled by the press of Lazlo's good hand against his arm. Surprised into looking directly at Lazlo, he was further discomfited by the look of deep concern on his face. Rather than attempt to speak, John patted the hand resting on his arm with what he hoped was a seemingly relaxed smile and turned to concentrate on the opening act.

The opera had been every bit as boring and incomprehensible as John had expected it to be. He, however, had spent the show uneasy rather than bored. Lazlo had intermittently returned to observing John throughout the show, resulting in John studiously keeping his eyes on the stage.

John had been quite ready leave Lazlo's company at the end of the opera and find a place to drink away his discomfort, but Lazlo requested that he join him at his home for a drink. Before John could decline, he mentioned how quiet the house seemed without Mary's company. Being unable to leave his friend to a night of loneliness, John had accepted his invitation even as he felt himself being manipulated.

Now sitting in Lazlo's calash, sharing a blanket to fight off the chill in the air, John wasn't quite sure how to move forward. Lazlo, however, seemed ready to move on from their earlier discussion.

"I am glad you agreed to join me tonight. I have acquired a bottle of wine specifically suggested by Charles Delmonico which I have been most anxious to sample."

"In which case I am most anxious as well. I may be the more prodigious imbiber between us but your taste in wine far exceeds my own."

"Perhaps if you approve you could order a bottle to share with Ms. Howard," Lazlo responded with a sly look. "Although I understand her tastes run to whiskey."

John laughed and gave Lazlo a knowing look. "If that was a subtle attempt to ask about my use of your ring I'm sorry to let you know I don't believe it will ever grace Sarah's hand."

"I am sorry to hear that John. Did she give you a reason?"

"She, ahh, indicated that much like her preference for whiskey her predilections are of an unusual sort. And I could never meet them."

Lazlo simply gave a small smile and a nod.

"Did you know? Is that why you first warned me away?"

"I came to suspect over time but I was not certain. And no, I am ashamed to say, I warned you away only because I was angry with you."

John gave another chuckle. "Well I am relieved to have the question settled at least. Although it gave my poor grandmother a great deal of sorrow."

Lazlo nodded again as the calash came to a halt.

With a word of thanks to Stevie and a request that a fire be lit in the study, Lazlo and John entered Lazlo's home. Lazlo went in search of the wine and knowing that his friend would be insulted by an offer of assistance, John made his way to the study and settled on a couch. The normal banter in the calash had somewhat soothed John's nerves and he hoped a glass or two of wine would dispense with the rest of the unusual discomfort which had haunted his evening.

Before long, Stevie had the fire started and Lazlo had handed John a glass of wine and settled into a chair across from him. From there the conversation moved from Stevie's unfortunate smoking habits (Lazlo had admonished John for slipping the boy a cigarette after he'd been dismissed for the night), to John's work at the paper, to Joseph's progress at the Institute.

John was on his fourth glass of wine and had moved to lay across the sofa when Lazlo mentioned meeting with the Isaacson brothers. There was some discussion of the possibility of publishing an article describing the forensic methods used to determine that one man was responsible for the murder of all of the boys.

"That seems like a capital idea provided that Roosevelt has no objections," John mussed.

"Yes we will have to seek his approval. We will also need to gather as much background information as possible to ensure the article does not fall prey to the forces that wish to discredit such new techniques. As such, I have wondered whether you recovered any additional memories from your time at Paresis Hall?"

John felt his heart rate increase at Lazlo's question and fought to keep his body relaxed, sure that any visible signs of his distress would further arouse Lazlo's curiosity. "I'm sorry to disappoint you and the Isaacsons but I told you the very next morning I didn't remember anything."

"Yes but individuals who…have lost certain memories due to imbibing either alcohol or something stronger, frequently have portions of such memories suddenly return. You, in fact, later remembered Sally telling you that Gloria's door was locked."

"And when that memory returned I promptly relayed it to you!" John could hear peevishness creep into his voice and he knew Lazlo would pick up on it. Once again he refused to look at Lazlo and instead stared into the fire.

"You seem quite troubled by an incident you claim you cannot remember."

John was beginning to think Lazlo invited him here for just this reason. The wine began to swish about in his belly and he struggled to sit upright. "I'm troubled by a number of things including the way those children are treated, the loss of my billfold, and your digging for information I cannot give you!"

"There are methods we could use to try to allow you to access those memories."

"And why would I want to access such memories," John asked while fumbling with his pack of cigarettes and struggling to light one.

"Because you are afraid of Biff Ellison and you don't know why." John was forced to look at Lazlo to show his disgust at such a statement but had to look away again when Lazlo simply gazed back at him with sympathy.

"Your hands are shaking and this time it's not from withdrawal. John, that morning I asked you what you remembered but I didn't ask how you were." Lazlo seemed strangely hesitant with his words, "you were…injured?"

John took a deep inhale from his cigarette remembering the sting of washing up that morning, the pain in sitting through a meeting with one of his grandmother's eligible young ladies, and the resulting embarrassment of forgetting her name due to such distractions. He tried to banish such remembrances from his mind, chanting _don't remember don't remember._ He was so involved in attempting to fend off the memories he didn't notice Lazlo crossing over to him.

"John I" Lazlo began but got no further before John jerked his shoulder away from the hand Lazlo was reaching out to him with. Both gentlemen stared in surprise for a moment as John attempted to calm himself. Lazlo's face then melted into a look of such tenderness that again John had to look away. "You haven't been well since that night. Forgive me for not seeing it earlier and let me help. Tell me."

"For God's sake Lazlo I have no interest in returning my thoughts to children having their flesh peddled by monsters and their lives taken by fiends! Leave my mind in peace!" John felt the roiling in his stomach reach a dangerous point and thought about walking out, but found his legs were too weak to complete the move. He also realized he was having a hard time getting a decent amount of air into his lungs.

Lazlo plucked the still burning cigarette from John's hand and, crushing it into the ash tray, leaned down to catch John's eyes. "You are hyperventilating. You must try to control your breathing." Once again Lazlo reached for John, but this time he grasped John's hand and brought it to his own chest. "Follow my breathing."

John tried to heed Lazlo's advice but found that his panic could not be controlled. He knew only that he had to get away and tried to jerk himself to his feet. He barely made it a step before his vision blurred over and he felt Lazlo half catch him half push him back onto the couch before he surrendered to the darkness.


End file.
